The sun woke Yuuri for the first time all week. He must have forgotten to shut his curtains last night. Without opening his eyes in fear of the light, he began to stroke the heavy weight pinning his legs to the bed. Makkachin was very attention hungry in this morning, he supposed. However, Yuuri didn't remember Makkachin's fur feeling like it was right now. Her fur was soft, but certainly not… silky? Also, Yuuri thought it was odd that Makkachin was lightly snoring. Maybe she snores all the time, and I've just never noticed because I'm asleep? Yuuri thought, slowly opening his eyes. That's funny. I've never heard a dog snore like that before and OH MY GOD THAT'S NOT A DOG THAT'S NOT A DOG.

He threw open his eyes, began reaching frantically around for his glasses and, in his confusion, woke the stranger up. Yuuri found his glasses under his pillow and shoved them on the bridge of his nose. The stranger sat up and Yuuri took a good, clear look at him. He had short, silver hair and half-lidded, piercing blue eyes. His button down had been completely unbuttoned revealing his toned chest, and when the stranger turned his head to look at Yuuri, one sleeve slid intimately down his shoulder. He was shockingly gorgeous. Yuuri put one hand over his own mouth to keep from screaming that a stranger was in his bed and the other hand on the bed to brace himself because this stranger is the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on, but he touched something cold and metallic. He looked down and from his sheets peeked a golden crown. He made eye contact with the man and screamed.

Yuuri Katsuki ran. He ran past his mother and past Otabek and past some blond kid and past royal horses and a royal carriage and sprinted straight to his meadow and screamed.

Why.

Why.

He beat his head against the oak, turned away to the meadow, then slid to the sod. Or, the snow, rather. Because it's snowing.

"Great! Now it's snowing, and I don't have a coat on! Wonderful!" Yuuri sighed. This was the worst thing that's ever happened to him. He exercised some deep breathing before walking himself through the situation again. He fell asleep with Makkachin last night, and woke up beside the monarch of his kingdom. Did he bed this man? He didn't drink last night and certainly didn't feel hung over. Did King Viktor just… wander into his room? Was this some kind of horrible prank? Don't people get beheaded over things like this? Or, in his case, bebedded?

Viktor had dreamed about the creature. They were facing each other just meters apart. They were in a forest, but it seemed to be completely spilt down the middle between them. On Viktor's side, fresh snow dusted every crevice of every tree and between each blade of grass. On the Night's side, the trees were all crumbling. From Viktor's sky fell fresh powder. From the Night's, ash.

Viktor reached out to touch him, but he began to back away.

"No, please," Viktor pleaded, "Tell me what you are."

The being looked up at him, and the stars that peppered his skin were picked up with the breeze. It looked like he was disintegrating as they left his flesh. "The Snow Prince doesn't need to know."

"Please. I'm begging you." Viktor was becoming more and more desperate. The Night, defeated, held out his hand, and Viktor eagerly reached out for him. As soon as they touched, however, he knew something was wrong. The Night reached around him again and settled his head on Viktor's chest, but it wasn't right.

Instead of warmth, it burned.

The Night, sensing Viktor's pain, let go of his hand and Viktor jerked away. The Night smiled, "The Snow Prince has made a horrible mistake." Viktor fell to his knees. The pain was unbearable. Blood and water dripped from his arms and his chest unto the snow. The trees behind him began to fall, and the ground began to shake. "The Snow Prince is a thief. We could not find him until now. Until now." His white snow turned to dirty ash. He looked from his burns back to the creature, his eyes begging for something.

Mercy.

"See? If I touch him…"

The world turned black and started to crumble like the Night's trees. Viktor could no longer feel his legs and cried helplessly as the earth beneath his knees gave out. Falling into an even darker abyss, he could hear the Night's voice echoing around him. It came from everywhere and nowhere at once and it sounded just as pained as it did dark.

"… he melts!"

Viktor woke up, startled, when he felt someone pet his head. No one had been close enough to touch his head since he was little, and the intimacy of it scared him, along with the shock of waking up from that dream. Suddenly, the hand pulled back and started thrashing around. It was too human to be Makka. Maybe he had fallen asleep in Christophe's bed by accident?

He sat up ready to greet his dear friend but was surprised to see a complete stranger. Things weren't making sense. Was this the Katsuki son? When they made eye contact, he could easily tell that the stranger was deeply uncomfortable and looked like his soul was being ripped from his body. Viktor followed his bedmate's eyes down to his crown laying on the bed. He supposed it had fallen off his head when he was asleep. Usually not a big deal, but the stranger came unglued and began screaming. Then he just ran out. Completely left. No "good morning" or "how did you sleep?" He just… fled. The whole ordeal was very intense for so early in the morning.

Makkachin hopped off the bed and began to trot towards the door as if to follow the man.

"Oh, no, Miss. Don't you dare." Makkachin looked back at Viktor apologetically, then sprinted. She was having trouble finding friction on the stained wood floor, so Viktor took the opportunity to leap off the bed and attempt to catch her. She was too fast, however, and disappeared completely by the time he collected himself. What a morning!

He looked out the window, trying to gage the time. The sun had barely risen, but he knew he had a lot to do. The events of the previous night lapped at his mind, and he knew that he'd have to inform Christophe and his guard about the creature that attacked him. Also, he just wanted to spend some time with Makka and relax in the hotspring. That was his first priority.

Alright, he thought, I have several options. He began to pace. I can wait until the boy and Makka return… but that's unlikely. I can go after them myself, but I don't quite know my way around. And my knights would want to come. Oh! I could send my knights after them… but that does sound a little overkill. Turning to the bed, he pat the bedding to find his crown. Sigh. How did he even end up in a stranger's bed in the first place?

Ah! That's it! He jumped up and put on his crown triumphantly. With a snap of his fingers, another ice sprite appeared with a little poof of snow. The power to summon sprites was certainly a unique one. Viktor remembers vividly the day his parents found out his imaginary friends weren't so imaginary. It floated to his face and began to poke at his cheek.

"My little friend, I've summoned you to find my dog." It giggled and began to lightly pull on the strands of hair that fell over his eyes.

"The master looks for his dog much in the past time. It's hot here~" Viktor chuckled and brought his hand up for the sprite to sit.

"Yes, well, your master wouldn't have to keep summoning you in such warm places if his dog didn't keep running off." The sprite began exploring the creases of his hand leaving a little trail of ice crystals in his palm behind its stubby, curious legs. His instructors had been surprised that his sprites remained so curious and childlike throughout his teenage years. Usually, if a magic user could summon servants, they would age with her. Viktor's, however, never changed from their original appearance. Two short legs, four cute arms, and two little feelers on top of the head made up his sprites. "Okay, little friend. I'm right behind you. First, though, we have to sneak out!" The sprite floated up and nodded vigorously.

"The master is quiet not. I wonder if he is silent in the future."

"Of course I can keep quiet!"

"The master is too tall to quiet."

"Many people believe that tall people are dashing! What would you know about that, little bug?"

"So what if the master thinks he handsome, we shall see if he keeps up!" It twirled and flew out the door.

"Makkachin, you belong to the King, don't you? I should have known when Otabek told me that you weren't his." Yuuri continued sulking, head in between his knees. He had no idea Makkachin was following him when he ran out the house until he arrived at the meadow. Her light steps the snow gave her away.

"This is probably treason." Makkachin licked his ear. "I'm going to get punished or something. I had no idea you were the King's dog!" Makkachin boofed and sat down in the snow.

Oh, yeah. The snow. It had been chilly the past couple of days, but not chilly enough for it to snow in the middle of spring. Yuuri hoped that it wouldn't affect the bird family living in the oak. Makkachin began rolling around and tossing snow on Yuuri with her nose.

Suddenly, everything made sense. King Viktor was the Snow King. He reigned over the Northern Kingdom, which included the small town of Hatsetu located towards the southern border. The Snow King was a powerful ice magic user. The cold front that had blown through Hasetsu was foreshadowing his arrival! And Makkachin is most definitely his dog because she is very accustomed to the snow! Yuuri was proud of himself for putting all that together, but the events of the morning soured his mood once again.

Finally calming down, he unfolded himself and took some time to observe his meadow. The snow made it more gorgeous, if that was even possible. It was just the right temperature, too: not cold enough to bite, but it wasn't warm enough for the snow to melt. The snow felt nice under his palm.

Looking out, Yuuri felt an acute wave of gratitude for this place. He was lucky to have a somewhere he could be alone, where he could escape from the embarrassment that was this morning. What would his parents think if they found out? What would Otabek and the Kingsmen do to him? Was accidentally sleeping in the bed with the King a punishable offense?

"I'm sure about one thing, Makkachin," he said while scratching her head, "the sooner the King leaves the better. And… if it's not for my sake, then for my parents." Makkachin rolled over allowing Yuuri to rub her tummy. "This entire ordeal has completely fried them! They're getting older, so this amount of stress can't be good for their health. I… I really disagree with the way the Kingsmen handled the King's arrival. Mom and dad were only allowed to know small details!" Makkachin wiggled closer to Yuuri, but turned her head to the left to look at the distant trees. "Otabek didn't even tell them when the King was arriving until he was an hour away! It's unfair to them, and –" Makkachin covered Yuuri in snow when she jumped up and began running.

"I'm sorry to hear that I've been a burden." The voice was deep and came from a figure standing at the edge of the meadow yet seemed like a whisper directly into Yuuri's ear. It somehow seemed to bury itself deep within his chest. Yuuri shuddered. The figure's cape danced in the wind, and a small gust lifted silver hair out of his eyes. His crown, though, prevented it from blowing too far out of place. The meadow seemed to proudly present to Yuuri the King, Viktor Nikiforov. Makkachin, finally reaching her friend, jumped on him. As soon as her paws hit his chest, though, she was gone. Dissolved gently into the wind.

Yuuri was stunned. He opened his mouth to speak, but an absence of words left him simply gaping. Everything that had occurred in the last several seconds left him breathless and confused. He squinted. Standing at the edge of the meadow, Viktor Nikiforov was everything that was beauty, elegance, and grace.

For a brief moment, the world was silent. For a moment, it seemed like the only people who were living and breathing was Yuuri and his King. Yuuri, under the tree, was on his knees. A chilly breeze kissed the back of his neck and down his spine. The breath that became mist in the frozen air mingled with the snow and disappeared into the landscape, it's purpose only to remind Yuuri how difficult it had become to breathe. Viktor, on the other hand, stood confidently with both strength and ease. A demi-god.

Viktor snapped and, as soon as he had appeared, disappeared into snow. In his place, a small puff of snow lingered. Yuuri began to look around for him, reasonably anxious, but when he turned his head to the right to survey the meadow, he turned inches away from Viktor's face. The King was sitting with his legs folded to the side, and, in one swift motion, held Yuuri's chin. With his other hand, he lightly traced Yuuri's arm down to his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Yuuri." He drew out Yuuri's name and leaned in closer. Yuuri, freaking out, jumped and slammed his back against the oak tree. He woke up.

Just a dream.

A weird fucking dream.

For the hundredth time, he wished that Yakov would have let him ride Gabriel to Hasetsu instead of being locked in the carriage. He admired the beautiful sight that was snowy Hasetsu Road and was sad he wasn't given the chance to experience this earlier. The sprite danced on the surface of the snow and left a little trail of fractals behind him. Every once in a while, it would dive into the powder and jump back up with a twirl, almost like an aquatic creature.

Walking along, Viktor had time to reflect on the events that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours. He dove deep into his memories from his schooling, looking for answers.

"I know you can summon a weapon. You're the only one holding yourself back."

"I'm trying!" Yakov grabbed him by the arm. It wasn't meant to hurt him, Yakov never raised a hand against Viktor, just get his attention.

"There isn't any 'try.' This is a Light spell. It comes from your Light. You have a beautiful Light." Yakov poked Viktor's chest above his heart. "Let go of trying to be perfect and just do it." Yakov let go and directed Viktor back to his target.

"Again."

Viktor hadn't been able to sense Light in his Night. How, then, could it use Light magic? Why did it have body heat? He thought back to the battle in the woods, to his attacker raising a pointed finger. It was a creature of the dark, that's why the Night's light arrow did it harm. How, then, was it also able to use Light magic? This entire ordeal made him deeply uncomfortable. The laws of magic weren't something that could be broken. If you didn't have Light, you couldn't use Light magic. Simple. He took a deep breath.

"Light magic is not an attack," Yakov had scolded, "It's a purifying technique. Stop trying to shoot Light beams out of your hands like the cop-out ice magic I've been letting you get away with." Viktor had raised his hand to try again, but Yakov's glare scared him into lowering it. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let's try meditation."

It's funny to think that, after all these years, Light magic was the only magic he really struggled with. He had even learned the basics of fire magic easier that Light magic, and fire magic burned his hands! Whenever other princes his age visited the Northern Corner, they always insisted on sparring. Their laughs at his pathetic attempt to summon a Light spear were interrupted when, instead, he summoned a blizzard. Yakov had reprimanded him. You can't take your insecurities out on others, Vitya. Everyone has strengths in different ways, and the fact that you don't know yours shows just how much you need to grow. Those words still stung. This was the worst thing Yakov had ever told him, and Viktor would never forgive him for it.

Viktor Nikiforov wasn't weak. He had never been weak. While all of those little princes wasted their time playing out in the garden or playing pretend, he studied magic. He sparred until he could no longer stand. He learned the basics of every type of common magic even when it almost destroyed him. And, when the War came, and all the other princes were sitting helplessly at home while their land, their people, were being killed and destroyed and threatened, he fought. When the death of his parents accelerated his coronation by decades, he bore the weight of the crown. How dare anyone accuse him of being weak?

"Is the Snow Prince lost?" Viktor looked unsuccessfully for the voice, wrenched from his thoughts. His sprite fled to Viktor's shoulder in fear and nudged him in the direction of a nearby tree. There, in the braches, sat the Night.

"No, I'm alright." The Night hopped down, landing on the ground without a sound. As he walked, Viktor noticed that his footsteps were silent as well. His instincts told him to back away as it approached, but he stood his ground. A King never backs down.

"Snow Prince, will you tell me something?" Viktor nodded, unable to find words to speak. In the dark, his Night was mysterious. In the light, his Night was dazzling, absolutely stunning. Its flesh was peppered with even more stars and they twinkled like glitter. Viktor could see for the first time that it had jet-black hair that fell gently over its face.

"Snow Prince, do you feel pain when I touch you?" The Night stepped closer, looking down at Viktor's shoes. He was unsure where this was going, but didn't feel any immediate sense of danger, so he allowed it. He noticed that he Night was much shorter than him. Viktor peered down his head and realized its body was almost translucent. Like water, if you looked closely, it distorted what was on the other side. How strange. Everything about the Night was strange, and it made Viktor feel strange.

"Not at all."

It made Viktor feel threatened.

"That's too bad," then, without hesitation, it flashed a Light dagger and stabbed him.

"Fuck! You… you just stabbed me!" Then, it disappeared.

It wasn't the first time Viktor had been stabbed. He was a King, so, naturally, there had been several attempts on his life, especially during the War. This, though, this time was the worst. Not because it hurt. It didn't hurt. It never hurt. He was just… surprised. He should have known. Damn the Forest.

"Shit!" he grumbled. He hung his head and began to unbutton his shirt. The sprite on his shoulder startled him when it began to run in circles, dipping under his collar and inspecting the cut. It wasn't deep. The state of his blouse made it seem much worse than it actually was. One thing was for sure, the Night was his enemy. Despite saving him. Viktor needed to tell Christophe and the Kingsmen about everything as soon as possible. Yakov was right: Hasetsu is darker than meets the eye. It didn't deserve a second chance. He should have known.

"Eeeee! The master is hurt! No issue! No issue! I can help!" His torso felt cold. Damn the cold. He had never been cold before. Why now? Why the hell now?!

"The trick to healing magic is to not do it yourself."

"Yakov~ That makes no sense!" He sighed.

"Remember visiting the wounded soldiers?" He remembered. "They did not stitch their own injuries, did they?"

"No, Yakov."

"They did not talk themselves through their memories, did they?"

"No, Yakov."

"Using healing magic on yourself is painful. Difficult. This you perform on someone else. Understand?" Viktor nodded his head. "No, you don't. What are you thinking about?"

"Well, why couldn't one of my friends do it?" Yakov opened his mouth, then closed it again. It wasn't often he was silent. Did Viktor say something wrong? Did Yakov not know what he meant? "You know, my little friends! They're made of ice…"

"You amaze me, Vitya. Let's continue. Summon a little friend."

"Let us continue, master! We must find dog!"

"Oh." Oh, yeah. Makkachin. How could he have forgotten? "Yeah, let's continue, but we have to hurry. I don't want to encounter the Night again."

"Close, my master."

"That's good to hear." They continued for about half of a kilometer before the sprite made a hard right. Viktor followed, quickening the pace. Makkachin was near, Viktor could feel it. Finally, he saw a clearing in the distance. Emerging from the trees out of breath, his blood froze. There was his Night, petting Makkachin. Oh, nevermind, that's just the Katsuki's son.

"Makkachin!" Viktor yelled, running towards the tree where the dog sat. He had hoped that she would come running towards him like the kind and loyal dog she was, but she stayed put in the Katsuki's lap. "Makka?" He slowed down as he approached. "Makkaaachiiiin!" He cried, dumping himself into the snow. His dog stayed put. How dare she?

"Oh, my god. I am so sorry." The kid said, rapidly and unsuccessfully trying to push Makka in Viktor's direction. Viktor narrowed his eyes. Who was this kid, getting all friendly with his dog? He wondered what exactly was going through the Katsuki son's head.

Oh my god oh shit fuck oh god I wish I was dead I want to crawl under a rock and die oh fuck shit shit shit shit shit shit oh my god, was going through Yuuri's mind as the dog refused to budge. He thought that he might actually pass out from the embarrassment.

"I see my dog has taken a liking to you." Viktor pulled himself up from the ground and stated coldly. He absentmindedly brushed his fingers over his cut. Threatened.

"Yeah, uh, she was really having trouble sleeping, and Otabek said that she really missed her owner and I had no idea that was you so I tried to comfort her and now I guess she really likes me oh my god I am so sorry." Yuuri stood, took a knee, and bowed his head to the King almost expecting (and slightly hoping) that he'd draw some kind of ice sword and lop it right off.

"Oh." That actually made some sense. "You can stand up. It's alright." But the kid stayed down.

"And I apologize on behalf of my family if your room is not to your liking. If you prefer mine, I ask that you take it." Yuuri nearly shouted. This caught Viktor a little… off guard. He had sworn that the room was empty when he walked in last night.

"You're the one that got into bed with me." This time, Yuuri stood up, a little pissed. Yeah, okay, Viktor is his King and totally has the power to kill him, but Katsuki Yuuri is the only one allowed to belittle Katsuki Yuuri. And his mom. And Phichit.

"I'm sorry, your Highness, but I was asleep in my bed far before you arrived at the Inn." The air around them hardened.

"I'm having a hard time believing that," Viktor spat. The whole reason he was passing through Hasetsu was because his subjects had given him so much unwanted attention. Yes, he was the King, and he was grateful that his people respected him, but now it was all too much. When he was younger, he could go on tours. He could visit towns and travel without a worry, but now he's confined to his carriage with a minimum of fifteen guards anywhere he goes. Now, he has to increase palace security. Now, he has to worry about random men getting into his bed at night.

In reality, this wasn't necessarily true, but, as anyone could guess, Viktor was not thinking clearly. After all, he had a long night and, also, just was stabbed. Viktor was actually passing through Hasetsu because it had a nice, convenient road that went straight fucking to JJ's palace in the Southern Corner. But Viktor had just been stabbed and was not thinking about Hasetsu Road. He was thinking about summoning an ice sword and lobbing this kid's head off.

"You can ask my family. I may be a nobody from a small town," he said, getting a little in Viktor's face, which was probably a horrible idea, "but I swear to you that I'm no liar like the greasy nobles you hang around with." Oh, alright, he wanted to go there?

"The idea that a subject like you has the audacity to speak to your King like that makes me sick." This got Yuuri's blood boiling. For the longest time, he's tried to think positive things about the royal family. They were, after all, more benevolent than other monarchs in surrounding kingdoms, but he knows now the idea that they anything above average was absolute bullshit, and this was Yuuri's time to come to terms with it. Fuck Viktor. Fuck royalty. He's tried for so long to image that Viktor is a decent king. Nowhere near the benevolence of his parents, but maybe, Yuuri thought, the reason he makes sketchy decisions is because he really believes that it would benefit the kingdom. But now, looking into his face and hearing this from him, Yuuri realizes that Viktor is just a spoiled child who grew into a shitty adult. He obviously has no idea what's going on with his people, and he obviously doesn't care. Yuuri is sick imagining his parents working for three days straight to prepare for the King's visit, repairing old bedding by hand, spending money on groceries for an army, preparing food for everyone, cleaning every single part of their Inn, their home, to fit the King's standards without complaining and possibly without compensation. Yuuri is grounded by the realization that Viktor isn't the King he tried so hard to imagine. He's an ass.

"The idea that a king like you with such potential would waste any of it makes me sick. I respected your parents, but you are a stain on their legacy. I understand now that you're just a rich kid who doesn't give a shit about his people." Yuuri brushed past him, marching back towards the edge of the clearing. Viktor clenched his fists.

"What's your name?" Yuuri stopped. "What's your name?!" Yuuri remained silent. "Answer me when I speak!" Viktor wasn't sure what he could do with that information. In fact, he wasn't even sure if he hadn't been told that before. This was more of a power thing than anything else. When he got back to the Inn, the kid would be punished.

Yuuri turned his head to look Viktor in the eye. Viktor felt a wave of adrenaline triggered by true fear, just like in the forest when he was attacked. This time, however, there was no one standing between them. Just the glance of this kid was enough to make Viktor tremble. His hair had fallen over his face, replacing his eyes with two black holes. His mouth hung open and slowly transitioned from a snarl to smirk. Stars began to pepper his skin like freckles. Under his deadly gaze, Viktor felt like his feet were sinking into the ground. He backed away until his head hit the thick bark of the tree behind him. Its branches seemed to slowly surround him. Viktor was trapped. Ensnared. He felt the magic, the power, the light from his body drain. Just like before.

"Katsuki Yuuri. Nice to meet you, Snow Prince."